Drink Me
by Catri Howlman-Carthaki spy
Summary: Compared to the stuff he's been through, getting stuck to a wall is the least of Matthew Scott's problems, Except when it isn't. Scott/Chloe but mostly gen.


**Title: **Drink Me  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Stargate Universe  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> Gen. Scott/Chloe  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> disturbing imagery, swearing, vomiting, spoilers for season 2 eps, crying, minor self harm (no cutting or anything, just a guy banging his head against the wall), not beta'd  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Written for the **hc_bingo** prompt "mutation".  
>~1,555 words<br>First posted on LJ.

**_Summary:_** Compared to the stuff he's been through, getting stuck to a wall is the least of Matthew Scott's problems, Except when it isn't. 

* * *

><p>Matt was on his way to his quarters, and he'd put his hand on the wall just for a moment. That was long enough for him to get stuck.<p>

He didn't realize he was stuck at first. He tried to walk on once his dizziness passed and stumbled back when his hand didn't move.

He yanked on it. Nothing.

Someone came down the hall and he leaned against the wall, trying to be inconspicuous.

"Lt Scott! Are you feeling better?"

"Fine," he said, with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

They kept walking, and he waited until they'd gone around the corner before he started pulling again.

This time, he braced a foot against the wall to give himself leverage.

No go. Still stuck.

He swore and kicked the wall.

He was leaning against the wall some time later, trying to catch his breath, when his radio crackled to life.

"Lt. Scott, you're needed in the gate room."

Fuck. "On my way."

And he would be. As soon as he got his hand off this wall.

Seriously, was it melted on? He tried to push the fingers of his free hand under the palm, but there wasn't an opening anywhere. Trying to pry his fingers off just gave him sore fingers.

"Lt. Scott!"

"I'm coming!"

His other hand didn't stick to the wall. Maybe it was just that one place that was sticky? It hadn't felt sticky when he'd leaned on it, but he wasn't exactly paying attention then.

He didn't have a knife on him, so that was out. A flashlight wouldn't do him any good. Reaching the pockets further down on that side was difficult. He spent a few minutes straining, only to snap into a nonchalant pose when he heard footsteps.

"Dr. Rush. Hi."

Rush frowned at him, or maybe he was frowning at something else. "You're supposed to be in the gate room."

"I was on my way there."

They stared at each other, Rush's eyebrows slowly climbing higher on his forehead.

"Is there are reason you're still standing here?"

Matt shrugged. "No reason in particular. It's a nice…hallway."

Rush leaned against the opposite wall. "This wouldn't have anything to do with your experiences on the planet, would it?"

"No?"

"Right, right. You're just admiring the hallway. The colonel will be pleased to hear that." He cocked his head to the side. "That looks like it's uncomfortable."

"It's fine."

"Is it?"

If Matt could've run, he would have. The careful innocence on Rush's face as he pushed off the wall would be enough to make anyone run for the hills.

At first, Rush just leaned against the wall in front of him, looking him up and down. Then he took a pen out of his pocket and broke it just above Matt's fingers.

"You're dehydrated," Rush said while Matt boggled over the waste of a writing tool. "The wall was probably damp."

Matt starts to ask him what in the world he's talking about, but that's about the time his hand starts to feel like it's turning in on itself. That's also about the time he starts puking. Rush steps out of the way in time; he doesn't look the least bit concerned.

"You just absorbed some compounds your body doesn't like very much; you're purging your system. Unpleasant, maybe, but you're not stuck anymore."

Matt hurled again. His hand abruptly detached from the wall. In between heaves, he looked up and saw Rush pulling a canteen out of fucking nowhere.

Matt ended up on his hands and knees in a pool of vomit, while Rush gave him an almost a little concerned look.

When the dry heaves were starting to ease off, Rush handed him the canteen.

"Don't," he said, when Matt was in the process of rinsing his mouth out. "Just swallow it. Trust me."

The first thing Matt thought was "Gross", but before he could spit it out and say so the water was gone. Not swallowed, not spit out – gone.

"What the fuck?"

Rush rolled his eyes. "Do you want to be stuck again? Shut up and drink."

"So you just stood there for hours looking pitiful, until Rush set you loose?"

Matthew shrugged. "More or less."

"Aw, Matt." Chloe tried not to smile. "You're adorable."

Matt made a face.

Usually it was Chloe who had nightmares, but this time it was Matt who jerked awake with his heart in his throat. Without really thinking about it, he pushed himself upright and slammed his head against the wall.

"Matt!"

"I'm okay," he gasped, flopping back onto the bed. "I'm okay, it's just a bad dream, I'm okay."

It took a while to convince Chloe that he was fine, that he didn't want to talk about it, that he couldn't even remember it really, but eventually she went back to sleep. Matt stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince himself that the wires were gone.

Rush almost smacked him in the face with a canteen as he went racing past. The words "You're dehydrated" were tossed over his shoulder. He didn't spare Matt a second glance.

He could feel the pulse of the wires under his skin. His body was on fire, and it was freezing. The rattle of the frog-things language blended with the sound of his heart in his ears. He swallowed around the bundles of tubes in his throat, fervently wishing to be anywhere else. He –  
>-woke, sweating and shaking, to Chloe's worried face.<p>

"You sounded like you were choking," she said. She was shaking too. "What happened, Matt? What aren't you telling me?"

He pulled her tight and clung. "Just a dream," he said, trying to convince himself more than her. "Just a dream."

This time he was ready when Rush tossed the canteen at him. Ready enough to yell "Thanks" at Rush's back.

He'd come to learn which clicks mean more pain. He was thrashing before the injections started, and the thrashing became seizing, and Matt lost himself only to wake up—  
>-wake up to Chloe shaking him.<p>

"What happened on the planet, Matt?"

He opened his mouth, but he couldn't speak around the phantom tubes in his throat.

He made it through the first few days of water rationing okay, but he spends the third stuck to the floor of the showers. He panicked for a moment – dizzy and confused – thinking he was back on that horrible table, immobilized in a tub of gel.

His head hit the wall, and it was such a relief, that sharp quick reminder that he was safe. Stuck to the floor, naked, in a shower, but safe.

He didn't have it in him to be surprised that it was Rush who found him again.

As much as he wanted to be, Matt was not on the next water reclamation mission.

He'd almost volunteered, but the look Rush had given him made him squirm and old his tongue. Col. Young was giving both of them odd looks, but Matt didn't know what to say.

Greer and Boise came back with a water surplus. Matt stepped out of his room to see a gallon jug sitting in front of his door.

When Matt woke screaming and thrashing, Chloe refused to let him go back to sleep.

"Please," was all she said. "Please."

"Everyone said we were only gone a day," Matt said. His voice cracked. "It was a year."

He told her about the lab, the frog aliens, the experiments, Rush breaking them free, and – eventually – Rush helping him when the experiments started having side effects.

"I keep trying to tell myself that it's all in my head, but…"

She didn't say anything. He wondered if she was remembering her own time in an alien lab, and all the fear that had come after.

After a long moment she hugged him. Maybe he cried into her shoulder, maybe he didn't – it didn't matter. What mattered was that she got it.

"What'd they do to Rush?" Chloe asked, and for a few days it was all he could think about.

What _did_ they do to Rush? Rush drank less than him and didn't stick to walls. He ran around as he always had, yelling at people, barely sleeping, eating an afterthought. There was a look of something like pride on his face when he worked with Eli, something like friendliness when snapped at Wray and Young. He was jumpier than he had been – jumpy as he was after his time with the blue aliens. His work hadn't suffered.

What had changed?

"How'd you know?" Matt asked the next time Rush tossed a canteen at his head.

"You never drink enough," Rush said, and Matt could've sworn he was being deliberately obtuse.

"No. How'd you know how to unstick me? How do you always find me? How do you know?"

Rush's face looked haunted when he said "I have my ways." It was wrapped up in a facsimile of Rush's usual arrogance, but Matt was looking too carefully to miss it.

When they find something they can write with while foraging, Matt leaves a box of it outside of Rush's door.

Rush doesn't say anything, but Matt thinks he appreciates it all the same.


End file.
